Oh, Mulligan! I love these images from Rod Savely. An image holds a thousand words, or reflects just a couple in the opening chapter of ‘The Damsel Gauntlet’.
What does Gretchen even do with pickled livers, anyhow? Does she use them in her potions or is that the kinda thing she eats on toast? Mulligan doesn’t seem all that fussy for a feline, but perhaps that’s a witches familiar thing.
And in case you missed it…
Gretchen stumbled into The Salt and Bog plucking leaves from her braid while mumbling under her breath. When she turned her attention to the crowd, her eyes widened at the regulars who’d turned to smirk at her.
“Broom problems?” Jurgen snickered from behind the bar as he poured ale from a barrel.
Gretchen clicked her teeth shut and cleared her throat. “Need to get that darn thing back to the shop. Can’t get good service these days. And I’ll hear no guff from you lot, or I swear I’ll curse your trousers to itch for months.”
The crowd broke out in laughter, only too aware of Gretchen’s lack of prowess in the curse department. She spotted Nora sitting at their usual table. Heaving a deep breath, she trod over and sank to the stool beside her.
“Tough day?” Nora had the decency to hide her smirk behind her hand, and Gretchen closed her eyes with a sigh.
“That alchemist stiffed me on most of the supplies I ordered, a customer changed her mind on the vermin poison, and Mulligan got into the pickled livers again.” She curled her lip. “Filthy feline has been farting all afternoon.”